~ WOLFFANG OF WINDCLAN ~
Large, muscular, dappled gray tom with light fluff on the front of his neck and chest; amber eyes.
Full bio can be read here.
Wolffang padded into camp. Its sheltered walls were comforting, blocking out the cold wind that howled across the moor. But what felt better was the weight of prey in his jaws: one plump rabbit that was bound to feed multiple cats and a mouse that would make a good meal for someone on their own, maybe something a pair of kits could share. Or Leopardsong? His stomach got that weird feeling of butterflies flitting around in it, and he considered bringing it to her. However, he wasn't sure how she felt about eating, with her sensitive stomach and all - although she was feeling better, she could eat, and surely that would've been healed by now? - and if she was hungry, he knew she was fully capable of getting fresh-kill for herself. He also wanted everything he'd caught to be available to anyone who was hungry, as much as he wanted to do something nice for the she-cat he loved. So, he put down the rabbit and the mouse, then padded away, thinking about what he should do with the rest of his day.
[4 + 2 = 6]
Prey Pile Currently Contains:
3 Mice
3 Hares